


Reminiscing

by capricious_Bastard



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-05
Updated: 2019-09-05
Packaged: 2020-10-10 13:37:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20528900
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/capricious_Bastard/pseuds/capricious_Bastard
Summary: Russia looks for his fallen heart in the coldness of winter within the darkness of the night.Suddenly, he's taken back to meeting he had with an American, and how he felt heartache.





	Reminiscing

The sky is dotted with twinkling stars, and the ground is covered in a sheet of white. Pure and clean against the darkness surrounding him. 

The silence is deafening yet he can't find it in himself to complain; strangely, he finds the silence comforting. 

A moment like this, where the voices in his head is quiet just like the outside world, is one he welcomes to the very bottom of his currently hollow chest. 

"I wonder where it is~" He muses, looking around the surface of the four feet of pure snow for something beating and possibly alive.

His voice echoed out slightly, catching on the branches and leaves of the trees around him. Carefully, he bends to look under the tall trees, occasionally looking between the branches to see if his heart caught on to one of them.

In the silence though, as he kept on searching, the thoughts come back, and the clench and ache, despite not having a heart currently, still makes its way to spread thoroughly throughout his chest. He feels suffocated. And hurt.

_If you're going to say 'I'm not sure if I like you or not' then should I just split your head open and take a peak inside instead? _

A chuckle escapes, breathless and stuttered. His mind likes to play, it seems.

But then, as he stands there, staring at nothing but darkness and white landscapes, he finds himself being sent back to days prior.

The gaze of a pair of brilliant cerulean eyes boring unto him, dirty blond coloured hair just within the edges of his view. They were standing alone, in the silence, in a room filled with warmth, yet his blood ran cold.

He tears his gaze from his winter boots, lifting his head and looking down at the American in front of him, a mix of emotions he doesn't know what to call reflecting within his bright starry blue eyes. His breath hitches. 

The blond merely shook his head at him, tearing their contact away from his own gaze. "I'm sorry", it was spoken so softly, so delicately he feared he was going to break down, limb by limb falling apart. But he didn't.

Instead, he found himself smiling at the younger nation, the corners of his eyes crinkled as they squint, "It is no problem, America", his accent is still rough and so obviously broken despite the times and years he has studied the English language.

That was their last exchange of words before America and his men left his country.

"Oh, there you are~!"

He says as he picks up the beating organ, a small smile of having found his fallen heart on his lips. He pushes the organ back into its place. 

And he takes one last look around.

The memories of laughter and a bright voice speaking enthusiastically about the "greatest season to ever exist in his centuries of being alive", running around the grassy plains, noticing the wild horses eating in the distance, as hands wrap around his own before being pulled around. The smile that outshone the sun that day will always be with him, causing aches and leaving him painfully breathless, _always_. 

Something makes his finger tips shake and he looks down, brings his hand up for him to gaze on. And he realizes his whole hand is trembling, the feeling of warmth he felt that day enveloping his hand, then his arm, and suddenly, he recalls the way his skin soaked up the comforting heat the sun basked upon his exposed skin, the way it licked the blond's honey-coloured skin and how it made him shine even brighter, strands of blond hair sticking to his forehead due to sweat. His eyes shining like there were stars in them as he pulled him, running around the field in careless, childish mirth. 

"The colour of spring that you love so much is still frozen over."

He walks away, back to the hollowness of his home. 

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by [「青」 - 167 ft. MAYU]().


End file.
